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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309536">A Decade Makes a Difference</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maximilian_Alexander/pseuds/Marvelous-Malex'>Marvelous-Malex (Maximilian_Alexander)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It Started in 1980 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agent Carter (TV), Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Iron Man - All Media Types, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Ultimates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(eventual) Howard Stark's Good Parenting, ADD/ADHD Tony Stark, Addiction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputee Tony Stark, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Kidnapping, BAMF Maria Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, Bisexual Tony Stark, Cancer, Charity Auctions, Charity Event, Competent Tony Stark, Conscious Decisions to Display Outward Affection, Emotional Constipation, Fake/Pretend Familial Relationship, Gen, Genius Tony Stark, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Happy Tony Stark, Howard Stark Does Not Know Italian, Howard Stark Lives, Howard Stark redemption, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Italian Tony Stark, Kid Tony Stark, MCU Rewrite, Maria Stark's Good Parenting, Natasha Romanov &amp; Tony Stark Friendship, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective, PR Nightmare Tony Stark, Panic Attacks, Peggy Carter is Tony Stark's Godparent, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Poisoning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Iron Man 1, Press and Tabloids, Redemption, Self-Indulgent, Separation Anxiety, The reason for this entire fic is Tony Stark's LASTING happiness., Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony-centric, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:28:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maximilian_Alexander/pseuds/Marvelous-Malex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1980 when Antonio Edward Stark is born.</p>
<p>It's 1987 when Maria Stark dies beside her concussed husband, begging her murderer to at least spare her seven year old child back home. </p>
<p>It's 1987 when Howard Stark gets a very serious wakeup call, and has to make the hardest decision of his life in order to come home to his son.</p>
<p>--- or, in which Tony is born a decade later than he was in the MCU, and that changes things, surprisingly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edwin Jarvis &amp; Tony Stark, Howard Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Maria Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Mary Parker/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov &amp; Howard Stark, Natasha Romanov &amp; Tony Stark, Peggy Carter &amp; Howard Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers &amp; Howard Stark, Steve Rogers &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It Started in 1980 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>428</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is basically going to be a complete rewrite of the MCU that I'm going to do in my leisure time. This version of Tony is going to take inspiration from pretty much... All the different Tonys in all the different Marvel Universes. This includes Ultimates, EMH, 616, and maybe even some obscure ones here and there. </p>
<p>Added to that, I'd like to make it VERY CLEAR that in canon verses, Howard's a piece of shit. I do not condone his actions or sympathize with him at all. So why am I writing an MCU Howard redemption?? Simple... I want Tony to be fucking happy. Sue me. </p>
<p>Once again, I'm doing this in my free time purely for fun. I don't know how exactly things are going to go in the future. And since I'm the author, you guys DEFINITELY aren't gonna know if I don't. Fair warning.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s 1980 when Antonio Edward Stark is born. </p>
<p>Before Tony, Howard was sure he was never going to have a child. He just wasn’t built to be a father, for one, and he and Maria were getting too old. They had been trying, a decade ago, but it never got anywhere, and frankly, he was rather fine with that. Eventually, he and his wife assumed it just wasn’t going to happen. The doctors just confirmed it.</p>
<p>Tony was a rather big surprise. </p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>At first, they genuinely had no idea why Maria was becoming so ill, so emotional. They had a brief scare that she had developed a fatal illness, and while Howard would absolutely never admit it, he was in near hysterics over the idea. Yes, they were getting old, but not old enough to die and say they lived a long life. Maria was only 50. Only <em>50</em>. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Contrary to what many believe, Howard isn’t completely cold-hearted. He loves his wife. She’s a terrifying force of nature, who, to this day, still leaves him a little breathless in her wake, and he had plans to spend the rest of his life with her. To grow old together.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was both relieving and terrifying to find out that she was pregnant. Because, on one hand, she wasn’t in mortal peril. On the other, there were countless health concerns that came with having a baby at fucking <em>50 years old.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And, on the mutant third hand... Howard didn’t want to be a father. He didn’t know <em>how</em>. He may have fooled himself into believing he was prepared to be one a decade ago, but he’s older, now. Wiser. A baby wasn’t some exotic pet he could hire someone else to take care of. It’s an incredibly dependent human being, and, quite frankly, Howard isn’t even really good at taking care of <em>himself </em>a majority of the time.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But Maria was ecstatic. And... Howard couldn’t take that away from her. It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t prepared. Maria always wanted to be a mother, and out of the two of them, she was much more devastated over the news that she’d be unable to birth a child.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Speaking of that, those doctors were clearly wrong. Like, very, <em>very </em>wrong. He’s never going back to those quacks.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>So he kept his mouth shut. Smiled along with her as she gushed over the new member of their family, helped paint the nursery, read the parenting books. Never spoke a word about the fear and reluctance he felt in the face of parenthood.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Which... Was a problem. It became a problem pretty quickly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Because, unsurprisingly to Howard, he proved himself to be the bad father he knew he would be. And Maria was having none of it.</p>
  <p>Howard was too scared to hold Antonio when he was born. The baby was healthy, if on the small side, and wrinkly, which was a surprise to the man. Then again, he had absolutely no idea what newborns were supposed to look like, so it’s possible they were just... wrinkly, at first. And all, bright red, and crying. </p>
  <p>Antonio was adorable, Howard silently admitted, despite the ugly wrinkly baby face. Adorable, and precious, and much too innocent to be in the hands of an ironmonger.</p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>Howard doesn’t hold his son when he is born. Maria is very displeased with that.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>No, the flowers he brought doesn’t soften the blow.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>In the years following, Howard doesn’t grow much closer to his son. It’s just too frightening, and in the few times he truly tries to make a connection, something else always just happens to pop up. He missed Tony’s first words to a board meeting, missed Tony’s first steps to a trip he had to take to London, and on Tony’s first day to daycare, instead of driving him there himself, Obie ended up having to take Howard’s place due to an emergency in the R&amp;D labs.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>When a four year old Tony waddles up to him and shows off a circuit board he made himself, (which Jarvis confirms,) Howard feels...</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Well, he should be ecstatic, right? After all, his boy is a tiny genius! Making a circuit board at his age is a remarkable feat.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>But, he thinks of every single milestone he missed, and feels overwhelmingly disappointed that this was the first milestone he was there for. </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Of course, that doesn’t stop him from showing off his son to every breathing person imaginable as soon as he could. He has to show his son he’s proud of him, right?</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>(It’s not until later, when Maria had finished making him fear for his immortal soul, that he realised this impulsive decision was a very, <em>very</em> bad one. He really isn’t nailing this whole father thing, is he?)</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>After that mistake, he spends the next three years making fewer and fewer attempts at connecting with his son. In that time, there were eight kidnapping attempts, three of which succeeded, one of which ended up with his son getting shot. </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>When you see the face of your seven year old child in a hospital bed, stitches in his stomach all because you decided to put him in the spotlight long before he was old enough to defend himself, you start to believe that he would be safer anywhere but near you.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>It’s 1987 when Howard decides he’s going to send his son to a boarding school next year. </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>It’s three weeks later when Howard realises he can never, <em>ever</em> take his eyes off his son ever again. </p>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I decided that since this was already a shit ton of self-indulgent sludge, I might as well add even MORE self-indulgent sludge. I have planned a lot of stuff for this story, and it's probably gonna have a lot of connected one-shots by the end of it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seven year old Tony Stark was woken from his sleep at 1:13AM, holding onto Jarvis’ hand, who had also fallen asleep in the chair next to his bed. It was the sound of a door slamming open that startled him, and by the looks of it, Jarvis as well, and not even a full minute later, Howard Stark bursts through the bedroom doors, eyes wild, suit covered in blood.</p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Jarvis stands.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sir, are you–”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Jarvis, pack everything Tony and I will need for a couple nights out. I can buy things later, just- just focus on the essentials for now.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard doesn’t even wait for a response. Instead, he approaches the bed, hands outstretched as though to pick something up, then supposedly hesitates at the sight of blood on his coat. Quickly, he chucks off both his coat and waistcoat, carelessly breaking buttons off in the process, then lifts his son out from under the covers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony feels his father’s hand gently cusp his head, guiding it to rest on the man’s chest, and the boy can barely believe what is happening.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His father never holds him. Ever.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dad?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard hums in response, burying his face into his son’s curly hair, swaying back and forth just like Tony’s mother would, and...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dad, weren’t you with mom?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard sobs, and Tony, being the intelligent child he is, quickly starts to piece together what happened. His father’s odd behavior, the blood, the bordering on painful hold the man had on him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She’s dead.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The revelation leaves the child feeling numb and nauseous all at once. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Mamma is dead.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Time passes in a blur after that. Tony hardly notices. There’s lots of sobbing, anger, panic, and the entire time, Howard refuses to let go of his son. Soon enough, they’re on a boat, gliding away from shore as quickly as possible.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony begins paying attention when Jarvis offers to hold him for Howard, before the man goes off and calls Aunt Peggy. His father refuses almost violently. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This is new. It’s overwhelming. Tony doesn’t know what to think of it. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His father’s death grip doesn’t let up, even as a phone is pressed to his ear. He keeps both arms in place and leaves it to Jarvis to hold the phone up. Tony hears his father stutter through a recounting of the events— and what a shock it is, to hear his father <em>stutter</em>— and learns exactly what had happened. Learns exactly why his father is so terrified, so unwilling to let go.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Murder. Assassin. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard doesn’t go into the details, seemingly aware enough that there are some images he just can’t imprint into his son’s mind, but doesn’t outright lie either. He’s too jittery, too paranoid, making damn sure that Peggy hears everything she needs to know. Making damn sure she does not involve the rest of SHIELD. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It wouldn’t be the first time she’s done a secret mission for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A few, excruciatingly long days later, spent with Howard still barely ever letting his son go, and Jarvis doing his best to console both the grieving Starks, news arrives. HYDRA still exists, and it’s infiltrated SHIELD. Peggy needs time to weed them all out, carefully, methodically. Until then, they aren’t safe.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They stay on the boat for another month, docking a short time periodically to restock. Tony quickly becomes used to his father’s newfound need for physical affection. There are only two beds on the boat, and Jarvis occupies one, leaving father and son to take comfort in each other’s presence when the nightmares wake them in the night.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony thinks this might be the first time he’s heard his father say the words ‘I love you.’ A part of him that’s bitter and aggrieved is angry about that. That it took the death of his mother to finally make the man admit it. But Tony is too taken by the need for comfort, and the <em>relief</em> of knowing that Howard is there and truly does love him, to care. He clings to what he can get.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s not like he has any other parent now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>By the time the month is over, Tony has learned how to make a boat engine, how to drive a boat, how to navigate using stars, and, surprisingly, how to fish. Tony heard father-son fishing trips were a thing, but he never knew his father was the type to actually know how to fish at all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Howard didn’t know how to fish. He’s very good at pretending, however, and it’s not like a seven year old would be able to tell. At least they managed to catch a young walleye.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When they return to land, Tony feels awkward and suspicious. Howard holds his hand tightly during the drive back home, but Tony wonders how it’s going to be once they’re there. Wonders if Howard will sink back to his old ways, pulling away from affection and fatherhood, hiding away in his lab, coming up with excuses to not interact with his own son. Almost forgetting that the boy even existed. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It doesn’t happen. The man remains just as smothering. Going as far as to have a near panic attack when Tony had been out of his field of vision for more than twenty minutes. (It came as a surprise, seeing as it didn’t happen before, but, then again, they had previously been on a relatively small boat. It was difficult to be out of sight for very long.) </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony came to realise just how dead serious his father was when he explodes in Obadiah Stane’s face. The implication that Howard should ‘put a little distance’ between him and Tony ‘before it became a problem’ had the father positively frothing at the mouth. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Stane never made a comment like that again, and Tony was no longer allowed to call him ‘Uncle Obie.’ The boy would have thought this was excessive, but didn’t argue this time around. It was an insensitive thing to say, especially after he had just lost his mamma. Especially when Howard had just lost his wife.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Another month later, Peggy calls to announce SHIELD to be HYDRA-free, and they finally relax, just a tad. Howard still has trouble letting Tony out of his sight, but with Jarvis and Ana’s help, he finds a healthy middle ground between allowing personal space and suffocating parental affection. Tony is allowed in the lab, now, and they work less on weapons and more on complicated bits of technology. Anything they can possibly imagine. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Life... It gets better. The pain of losing Maria Stark is sharp, and leaves the two remaining Starks in tears for a long while, but slowly, surely, it gets better.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Seven year old Tony Stark falls asleep at 8:03PM against his father’s chest, lulled by the feeling of rough, calloused fingers combing through his black hair, aching but hopeful, feeling safe. Sixty-seven year old Howard Stark follows close behind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A seven year old girl with red hair is ordered to prepare.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Definitely gonna add more tags... Blegh. I keep planning more and more. I love Natasha and I had to add her. Her and Tony's dynamic is awesome. </p><p>Also, let me be clear that while Howard's newfound incredibly attached behavior is understandable, it's super unhealthy. Which... Unfortunately makes Obie a little bit right? But that's the thing about Stane, he's a piece of shit who makes his 'suggestions' sound reasonable. A total manipulative prick. And Howard's a little too feral to give a shit whether Obadiah is his friend or not. He's a businessman, and an insanely successful one for someone who grew up poor, (possibly) Jewish, on the lower east side. He can probably sniff out bullshit and manipulation like a bloodhound, and he's on high alert right now. Obie's friendship status might have saved him before, but not this time.</p><p>Oh, also, let me be VERY. CLEAR. This is not the extent of Howard's redemption. He's going to fuck up sometimes, and apologize for a lot of his past actions. It's a bumpy road. But right now, both Howard and Tony want nothing more than comfort, and can't mentally deal with the other problems. We WILL get to the good stuff, don't worry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I'm still struggling with the tags. There might be triggering things in the future, but it's nowhere near there yet and the plan isn't quite set in stone. We'll get to there possibly when Tony's fourteen and attending MIT, but we'll see.</p><p>Also I realised this just recently but... HOW IS TONY GONNA MEET RHODEY AHHHHH</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Howard wakes up alone, gasping and sweaty, the image of Maria’s lifeless eyes staring back at him burnt into mind like a brand. The image of, of <em>Barnes</em>— although that’s impossible, it <em>can’t</em> be— turning to look at him, he can’t ever forget.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The guilt is something Howard thinks is never going to go away, regardless of the reasons he did what he did. Someday, he’ll have to tell the truth to Tony, and he can only imagine how horrible it will be. However Tony chooses to react, Howard would deserve it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He let his wife die, after all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Worse, he doesn’t regret it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>If he had done <em>anything</em>, anything at all, to have suggested he didn’t immediately die after slamming his head into the steering wheel— if he had tried to <em>save Maria</em>— he would be dead right now. Tony would have lost <em>both</em> of his parents that night, at the tender age of seven. So, Howard kept his eyes still and watched.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He watched his wife be strangled to death, and he didn’t regret it. Because he got to come back home to his son. It was a miracle, really, that playing dead even worked. The blood that spilled over his face and coat really sold it, it seems, and thank fucking G-d for that. Tony’s much too young to be left behind. Too young to navigate this world alone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Where is he,” Howard murmurs, once again reminded that he woke up alone, despite very clearly remembering that he had fallen asleep with his son tucked into his side.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Panic slowly starts to grip at his heart, and he quickly chucks the covers off, rising from the bed and finding the whole bedroom empty. The bathroom light is on, but they always leave it on and keep the door open a crack, since Tony’s Captain America nightlight had broken, and they haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet. A quick glance inside reveals it empty as well.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard throws on his robe and leaves the room. The hallway is cold, and silent.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He knows he shouldn’t be panicking. Jarvis and Ana had told him that his paranoia had been clearly dictating his actions recently, and while understandable, it came off as a little much, even to Tony. And by ‘a little much,’ they meant that it was kind of scaring him, which Howard obviously didn’t want to do. He wants his son feeling safe, not frightened.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He couldn’t help it though. He can’t even last a solid hour without seeing Tony’s face, otherwise he dissolves into an anxiety-ridden wreck. He has to know where Tony is 24/7, otherwise he’ll start making assumptions, and predictions, and dwelling on what-ifs. It’s as though the minute his son is out of sight, the next time Howard sees him, he’ll be a bloody, unrecognizable mess.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That particular thought has his heart jumping to his throat, and he goes from shuffling across the floor to jogging down the pathways and to the kitchen, not taking much care to keep the noise down. It doesn’t matter anyways, the only people other than the Starks and the Jarvis’ in the mansion were wide awake SHIELD agents. Plus, Edwin and Ana sleep like logs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard had suspected that Tony would be in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water or munching on a late night snack. He finds it vacant instead, as well as the dining room and the common room just beyond it. Howard feels jittery, on edge, and he wants this just to <em>stop</em>. He’s so tired of overreacting, of his brain <em>working against him</em>, and he knows Tony is likely<em> fine</em>. There’s no reason to—</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His eyes find the liquor cabinet, and his heart stops in his chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>No</em>, he thinks. <em>No, don’t you fucking dare.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Over two months. Howard wouldn’t consider himself an alcoholic, but he’s really never gone this long without a single drink, especially when wallowing in grief like this. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He opens up the cabinet. The liquor it holds is old and expensive, the kind you pull out for holidays and celebrations. Definitely not the kind of stuff you drown yourself in when you can no longer take the fear, the grief, the overwhelming sadness. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Don’t do it.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard grasps the neck of a bottle, and pulls it out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He almost loses his grip at the sound of small steps coming up behind him, his heart restarting and pounding furiously against his chest in shock and shame. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dad?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He turns his head and hopes he doesn’t look as much like a deer caught in the headlights as he feels.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Tony, what are you doing out this late? Where were you?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony smiles drowsily, holding up his favourite nightlight in one hand and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the other.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Was fixing my Cap’n light. Bathroom’s too bright.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard frowns, turning his body to face his son.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Tony, you’re not supposed to go into the lab by yourself, remember? It’s dangerous in there, especially without adult supervision.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s fine,” Tony argues, dropping his shoulders and rolling his eyes. “I didn’t touch anything. What’re you doing—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Whatever he was about to say is forgotten. He abruptly cuts off, the sleepiness leaving his body and giving way to tension, caution. Howard follows his gaze, and realises it’s trained onto the full glass bottle he never put back into the cabinet. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard realises that Tony is looking a lot paler, and lot more frightened, than he did just a couple seconds ago.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I was going to pour it down the sink,” he says, thinking on the fly,<em> lying through his teeth</em>. “I... I’m going to pour all of it down the sink. Every bottle, every last drop.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony breaks his gaze from the bottle and looks up at his dad with wide eyes, relieved and hopeful. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Really?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah,” Howard says, getting more and more on board with the idea now that he’s said it, now that Tony isn’t looking at him like he’s <em>dangerous</em>. “We can do it together. Let’s pour it all down the drain.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They take out every single bottle in the cabinet, lining it around the sink, and Howard makes sure to pull out a stepping stool, because Tony is... Well, he’s small for his age, which Howard may or may not begrudgingly admit that it’s probably because of his genes, and definitely not Maria’s. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Can we pretend to be witches over a cauldron?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard wrinkles his nose at Tony’s excited question and chuckles.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I mean, <em>you</em> definitely can, but I’d rather pretend to be a chemist.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony looks his dad up and down, then lifts an eyebrow, looking far too much like Peggy despite not having seen her in person for over a year.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“In a robe like that? The witch story is more believable.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hey, I<em> like</em> this robe.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ll mourn your fashion sense for you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard barks out a surprised laugh, and they get to pouring. They’re silent for the first couple of bottles, but it’s comfortable, at first. Then Tony gets a little giggly when his father takes two at once and pours them in while calling them ‘ogre tears and unicorn pee.’ There's no harm in humoring the little witch fantasy, if only for a bit. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Eventually, Howard is pouring the last bottle, and he can’t help but ask.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I really scared you just now, didn’t I?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony looks down and doesn’t speak.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve... I’ve scared you before, huh?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The last drop spills out, and Tony still keeps quiet. Howard sets the empty bottle aside and swallows. He feels hollow on the inside, but he keeps questioning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I probably said and did some nasty things before.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“S’okay,” Tony finally mumbles. “You didn’t remember it. You weren’t yourself.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard’s eyes burn, and he chokes back the tears.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No, Tony, it’s<em> not okay</em>.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He kneels down and takes his son by the shoulders, turning him so they’re facing each other. Tony pointedly avoids looking his father in the eyes. Howard doesn’t force him to yet, not sure if he<em> should</em> or not.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Whatever I did or said to make you— to make you scared, it was not okay. It doesn’t matter if I didn’t remember it in the morning. It will <em>never</em> be okay. I’m, I’m <em>sorry</em>. Hey, look at me—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He tilts Tony’s head up, and their gazes connect.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m <em>so sorry</em>, Antonio. I<em> swear</em> to you I’ll be better from now on. Alright?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony sniffs and nods, bottom lip trembling and tears waiting to be spilled. He leans in and wraps his arms around his dad’s shoulders, and Howard wraps his own around his son’s waist, tucking his little head under his chin. They sink to the floor.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This doesn’t solve everything and they both know it, but it’s progress. One step at a time.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hey,” Howard says a good few minutes after they’ve calmed down, rubbing soothing circles into his son’s back. “Why don’t we eat something? I make a pretty good macaroni, if I do say so myself.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Like Jarvis’?” Tony mumbles into his chest.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nah, better. I make it with Velveeta.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony stiffens, and reels back, looking up at his father with pure, unadulterated disgust.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>What</em> did you just say you uncultured <em>heathen?!</em>”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Holy shit</em>, Howard thinks, bursting into laughter. <em>My kid’s a riot.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Stop laughing! How dare you insult Jarvis’ macaroni! This is a crime, a <em>crime</em>—!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard laughs even harder.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)))) First bump in the road, conquered!</p><p>I imagine Tony shares a lot of his tastes more with his mother than his father, especially since Howard was absent for most of his life at this point. So, fashion-wise and food-wise, Tony's got a bit of a cultured woman's touch. If it were Howard before the assassination, he would've probably been annoyed with this. Now, though, he loves it. He loves how much like Maria Tony is, and finds his sass and indignation hilarious. Rather than attempt to snuff it out, Howard's likely going to encourage this and fan the flames. </p><p>As a result, this Tony is going to be a lot less repressed than the canon Tony. Which is gonna be fun, since Tony at seven is already an overdramatic little drama queen, so you can only imagine how he'll be as an adult.</p><p>If anybody's confused by Howard being short, by the way, my version of him is basically the one from Agent Carter, just older. He's definitely not tall, and people tend to tower over him. I love it. Short Starks. I'm still debating whether I should leave Tony at RDJ height or have him shoot up like a beansprout to match his comics counterparts' height. On one hand, I'm trying to take inspiration from the other versions of Tony. On the other hand, I love me some short kings. We'll see how it goes.</p><p>Also, if you guys wanna see my tumblr, it's marvelous-maximilian. It's just a bunch of hcs, au prompts, and the works. Most of them are Irondad right now, but I have other ideas.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sure you all noticed some of the tags I added. I've got a lot of stuff planned for this story. I mean, it's entirely self-indulgent so of course I have a lot planned, but still. </p><p>It's the 80s, and Tony's known for being a genius even at his age, which means no one expects him to think like other kids. So, don't expect him going to a doctor and getting a correct diagnosis for his ADHD. It's definitely not gonna happen. He might get diagnosed in adulthood, though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Honestly speaking, this is a road bump Howard never expected to hit, not with a kid like Tony. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now, not to brag, but his kid is a genius. It’s not up for debate, everyone knows about it. Especially since Howard couldn’t manage to keep his mouth shut about Tony’s early achievements. Behavior-wise, sure, his teachers aren’t exactly loving it, but academically, there has been nothing but praise. Tony’s already on his way to skipping another grade, and by age 10, Howard suspects he’ll already be taking high school classes. Up until now, Tony has been ploughing right through every test, every textbook, absorbing information like no other sponge in existence.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The key part of that sentence is ‘up until now.’</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now, Tony is pulling at his hair, hunched over the little desk in his bedroom, sobbing in frustration, and Howard has absolutely <em>no idea</em> how to deal with it. He’s sure there have been seven year olds in the past who threw tantrums over their homework, but this really doesn’t seem like a tantrum. This is the type of pure, overwhelming stress that he’s only ever seen in overworked adults.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The oddest thing about it all is <em>why</em> Tony is so frustrated. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony loves to read. His bookshelf is full of everything from scientific theories to fantasy novels, and he has read every single one. More than once or twice, even. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Right now, Tony seems like he’d rather do <em>anything</em> than read the book he’s been assigned for English. Or, to be more accurate, he seems like he simply <em>can’t</em> read it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard knows Tony’s trying. He’d been sitting beside his son for about two hours now, trying to figure out the problem and help him through it, and it’s evidently clear that Tony is trying <em>extremely hard</em> to focus. But he just <em>can’t</em>. They’ve tried everything at this point, eliminating any distracting noises, saying the words out loud, Howard even read the book to him but Tony just <em>zoned out</em>. It was like his consciousness left his body to find something more interesting. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was completely mind-boggling. And unfortunately, Howard can’t be certain this is the first time Tony has ever gotten so stuck like this before. All evidence points that this has been a frequent problem in the past, but as soon as Howard attempted to bring it up, his son just started crying harder and curled in on himself, almost like he was<em> embarrassed</em>. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>So instead of reading the book, (which Howard privately thinks is awful, anyways, why would they assign students such utter <em>garbage</em>,) they sat themselves in the kitchen and started eating ice cream pops. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As a father, Howard has come to learn that ice cream is a miracle worker. It’s statistically proven to have a 100% success rate at cheering Tony up, especially if it’s a strawberry split. Now, obviously, one can’t become reliant on ice cream to solve all their problems, but when one’s son had spent the last half hour crying his little heart out, ice cream seemed pretty well deserved. And necessary.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Necessary because Howard has no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Talking,</em> he thinks. <em>Jarvis says talking helps. Communication? I’m good at that. I’m practically the king of talking. Anyone who’s ever met me at a party would agree.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Tony, I think we should talk.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Given the way his kid immediately tenses up and looks around for the nearest exit, Howard can safely say that he botched that opening sentence. Spectacularly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Um—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s nothing bad, I’m not mad or disappointed or anything! I’m just really worried. You cried so hard I thought you were gonna make yourself sick, bud.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s not an unreasonable concern, as Tony has done so before, back when they had just lost Maria. Then again, they were on a rocking boat, and Tony had a pretty tender bullet wound that had just healed over, so perhaps his nausea had more to do with that than the violent bawling.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Perhaps the boat wasn’t a good idea, given Tony needed more time for recovery, but the boy never complained, and he took his pain meds as ordered. Plus, it would be extremely difficult for an assassin to sneak up on them while they’re out at sea, so it seemed like the safest option.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’ve dealt with this before, right? Could you tell me how?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony falls silent, trying to avoid eye contact. It’s disconcerting. Howard scrambles to think of something else to say.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Mamma would play piano,” Tony interrupts. “When I was having trouble. Music helped. But I don’t want to listen to piano unless it’s her. I don’t think that’ll work anymore.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Oh</em>, Howard thinks, getting hit with a wave of grief. He takes a bite of his ice cream pop to help soothe the ache.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The silence is deafening. After a while, he can no longer take it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So, we’ll need to find something else that can help, then,” Howard says, attempting to sound confident. “It’ll be like... An experiment, but to test behavior. Not usually my thing, but science is science, right?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony perks up at that, eyes gleaming with interest. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I thought, before, that the problem was that you had too many distractions,” Howard continues, this time partially talking to himself. “But maybe it’s the opposite. Background noise <em>helped</em> you focus. If we’re ruling out classical music, we can try out different genres of music and see which stick. We’ll give each genre about twenty minutes each, and compare your progress to see which is effective.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony frowns, brows scrunching up thoughtfully.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“But what if we can’t find a music genre that works? We’ve already tried other stuff outside of music, and none of them worked out.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They didn’t work because I was under the assumption that you needed distractions taken away,” Howard admits. “If music isn’t working out, then maybe a change of scenery will. There’s a bunch of birds and other animals roaming around in the garden, lots of background noises everywhere. Might be a good replacement for music, right?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony nods, seemingly more assured, and takes a good bite out of his pop. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Later, after a few failed (<em>child-friendly</em>) albums, they find themselves in the garden. Finally, with the change of scenery and the sound of nature, Tony seems to have settled in comfortably, able to read through and actually <em>process</em> the words in the book. It feels as though a weight is lifted off of Howard’s chest, knowing he was able to actually help Tony through this on his own. He did not even need to ask for Jarvis or Peggy’s help, this time around.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Of course, now that Tony is finally getting the words on the page through his head, his immediate reaction is to verbally tear it to pieces.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“This is awful,” Tony groans. “No wonder I kept tuning out, this book is the worst. Was the guy who wrote this on drugs?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, actually,” Howard says. “Funny how literature teachers worship nonsensical garbage like this, huh? They like to pretend that the things that don’t make sense have some deeper meaning, and slap on whatever meaning they can come up with. They<em> love it </em>when words make no sense. It’s analytical heaven to them.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony scrunches up his nose.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Why am I reading this, then? How is this supposed to help me later?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It isn’t.” Howard shrugs. “Sorry, pal. Sometimes we’ve got to do things we don’t want to do, if we want to move forward. On the bright side, once you’re finished, we can burn the book afterwards. Sounds fun, yeah?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony’s eyes light up at that. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Yeah. He’s a bit of a pyromaniac. After a couple lab sessions, Howard couldn’t help but notice. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with burning or explosions, but more to do with things that are bright or shiny. Tony’s got a thing for pretty lights.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(It’s a shame they spent Christmas grieving on a boat. Maria had decorated beautifully.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ve finished my chapter,” Tony announces after a few minutes. “Can we burn it now?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard snorts.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh, <em>no</em>. We’ll burn it after you’ve<em> finished the whole book</em>. You still need to read another chapter tomorrow and the day after that, remember?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I was hoping you’d forget,” Tony grumbles. “You called yourself old yesterday. Old people forget things.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I did not call myself <em>old</em>,” Howard sniffs. “I said I was too old for all-nighters. That does not make me an old man.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So the grey hair is a fashion statement, then?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard darts a hand out towards Tony’s neck, causing his son to squeal in surprise. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Stop!</em>”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nuh-uh, little brats get tickled, sorry!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony kicks out, giggling, as his father gathers him up in his arms.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Quit it</em>, pa!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard huffs, baffled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>‘Pa,’</em> what<em> ‘pa?’</em> Do you realise you call me that when you’re annoyed? Where the hell did you get that from? Seriously, who taught you that? No way it was Jarvis.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony shoves his way out of his father’s hold, half-irritated and half-giggly, a confusing combination. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I- I used to call you—,” Tony hesitates, face going a little pinker than it already was. “I called you papá, sometimes, when I was talking with- when I talked with mamma.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony frowns, oblivious to the sudden turmoil his father is hit with.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It makes me sound like a baby, though. I’m trying to stop.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Who the fuck cares about that,</em> Howard thinks, a little emotional.<em> That’s fucking adorable, holy shit? He really called me that, and I never knew?</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It doesn’t make you sound like a baby,” he assures. “I don’t mind.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re biased,” Tony blandly points out, rolling his eyes. “Your opinion doesn’t count.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh, wrong. My opinion counts for a lot. I’m known to have great opinions, actually. I’m <em>brilliant</em>. For example, I thought going outside so you could work was a great idea, and hey, I was right.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You also thought that it’d be a great idea for me to be trapped at my desk in total silence for two hours.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard pauses.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“...Alright, I’ll give you that one.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They clear up their things from the garden table and come back inside, shuffling by a SHIELD agent on their way in. The Starks have grown used to the newfound constant surveillance, and Tony has already managed to charm a good third of their protection detail. Mostly by memorizing all their names and some of their interests. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony makes sure to greet ‘Erik’ as they pass by. Erik gives him a wink in response, but otherwise stays silent.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>That charm is all Maria,</em> Howard thinks. <em>He wields it effortlessly. </em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony inherited a lot from his mother. Her charm, her taste in clothes and food, her wit. Perhaps the way he learns is something he got from his mother as well. Perhaps that’s how she knew how to deal with it. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard’s heart feels heavy, and he holds in a weary sigh. He sees so much of her in his son, it’s almost painful. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ana says she’s going to teach me how to make her goulash,” Tony says, suddenly, cutting through Howard’s thoughts like butter. There’s an intelligent glint in his eyes as he gazes up at his father. “She promised to show me tonight. You’re going to be there.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard lifts an amused brow. “What, is that supposed to be an invitation, or a demand?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s a threat,” Tony chirps. “I’m threatening you. You’re learning with me, whether you like it or not!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard chuckles.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, Jarvis is gonna <em>love</em> it when I burn down his kitchen tonight.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jarvis did not love it. Thankfully, the damage was minimal, because Tony was smart enough to know not to throw water at a grease fire, unlike his father, who had very nearly burnt the house down in a panic.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Everyone decided Howard was no longer allowed to cook from that day forth. </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There we go!</p><p>Howard should have probably contacted someone for help before it resorted to tears, but he wanted to handle this particular obstacle himself. He also happens to be using his undivided attention towards his son as an unhealthy coping mechanism to handle his grief, somewhat. Tony's sort of caught on to this, but he's not complaining. He's doing the same thing, after all.</p><p>As for other news, I've mostly finalized how my version of Tony is gonna look like as an adult. Have any of you seen that Valerio Schiti drawing of Tony in a Captain America shirt, with the dimples and floofy hair? He'll be pretty much the same, but with a few differences. I decided to keep him at RDJ height, and I'm thinking of maybe giving him heterochromia? Because I love RDJ's brown eyes and EMH Tony's gold ones, but I also really love 616 Tony's blue eyes. Either heterochromia, or the kind of eyes that are light in certain lighting and gold/brown in dimmer lighting. (Like my cat's!)</p><p>(For those of you who don't know what Valerio Schiti drawing I'm talking about, I reblogged it onto my tumblr. You can find it here→ https://marvelous-maximilian.tumblr.com/post/639849966502838272 )</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony not-so-subtly wrinkles his nose, and Howard can’t help but empathize. He, too, is beginning to lose his patience, and would quite literally do anything to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. Their audience, however— a senator who knows just enough about rocket science to bullshit his way into looking like he knows what he’s talking about— isn’t really giving the Starks an opening to hightail it out of the interaction. </p>
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Obadiah had been getting on Howard’s case, recently, for rather understandable reasons. He was the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, whose wife had recently died, and he had vanished from the public eye for months. The longer he stayed in isolation, the more people wanted a story, and many have already begun to weave conspiracy theories and outright slander. After a certain amount of months, the story that he was busy ‘grieving’ seemed too flimsy to the public, apparently. The board was getting restless, a point Obadiah kept making, and so Howard had no choice but to accept an invitation to a charity event. One that Maria would typically be the one to attend.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Of course, many had expected Howard to come alone, like he usually did when he went out to make connections. Instead, he had taken a leaf from his late wife’s book and brought along Tony, and went even further to bring along Peggy and an agent of hers by the name of Nick Fury. He can’t understand why people would be surprised by this. There’s no way in hell he’s letting his son out of his sight, not even for a single night. Besides, Tony was always seen at charity events alongside his mother. Howard may not be Maria, but he was still Tony’s parent, and there was nothing wrong with keeping this unofficial tradition of attending charities together alive.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to agree with that line of reasoning. While a good half of the attendees were charmed with Antonio, having met him before on many occasions and were quite used to his quick wit and abundant intelligence, the other half that Howard was more familiar with were... Condescending at<em> best</em>. At worst, they were downright insulting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The amount of times the Starks had to endure blatantly false accusations of Howard <em>buying</em> Tony’s way through his schooling, from both business rivals and supposed <em>partners</em>, was enough to really get their blood boiling. Many were too caught up in their own egos to catch Tony’s displays of higher knowledge. Some even laughed and called him ‘cute’ when he attempted to open a discussion on artificial intelligence.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>(Howard can already tell that Tony is going to take those personal insults and use it to fuel his ambitions. He doesn’t know where, exactly, his son got it into his head to pave the way for real, fully-functional artificial intelligence, but from the few comments the boy had made, Howard had no doubts that he will succeed. When Tony was focused, practically nothing could shake him out of it until he was finished with the job.)</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This senator in particular seemed to be among the variety who wasn’t <em>attempting</em> to be insulting, but certainly came off that way. He spoke like he was the smartest man in the room— which, considering the amount of scientists in the room, he most definitely was not. He had continuously brushed away every attempt at conversation Tony made with a shake of the head, pointing a look towards Howard in a ‘kids these days, they think they know everything’ sort of expression.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As if Howard would agree. Christ, it really had him grinding his teeth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Things really came to a head when the senator ruffled Tony’s hair. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Let it be known that Antonio Edward Stark did <em>not</em> like being touched by people unless they were either family, or had explicit permission to do so. He didn’t like hugs from strangers, he didn’t like it when old ladies pinched his cheeks, and he <em>very much</em> did not like having his hair tousled by grown know-it-alls who can’t help talking down to people who are smarter than them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You should carry a plant around,” Tony said, fluttering his eyelashes in that all-too-innocent way he does before he says something that’s bound to make Howard lose his marbles. Big eyes paired with his now mildly messy hair, he looked like the picture of sweetness. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As a businessman, Howard should probably make some attempt at stopping his son from insulting any of the other guests, regardless of how absolutely infuriating they are. Especially when they’re someone in such a high position of power. As a father, he’s rather looking forward to whatever his kid has to say, regardless of the many scrutinizing eyes on them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Fatherhood wins out, so he stays quiet, letting the senator dig his grave as the man leans down and starts to talk like the patronizing imbecile he is.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And why is that, young man?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“To replace the oxygen you waste whenever you talk,” Tony replies, grinning back sharply. Beside Howard, Peggy chokes on a sip of apple cider, and starts coughing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Around them, the noise of the other guests decrease in volume, many having overheard. The coughs seem to echo a bit in the silence, so Fury guides Peggy away from the center of attention, blending into the crowd, but keeping an eye on the Starks. Neither agents want to end up with their faces plastered in the tabloids, but they still have a job to do.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The click of a camera goes off.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Tony,</em>” Howard scolds, putting on the act of a disappointed father. “I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior, if you could excuse me for a moment—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He picks Tony up and into his arms, then walks away, not bothering to wait around for Senator What's-his-name’s remarks. As soon as they’re far enough, out of earshot and away from the majority of the eyes that had witnessed the interaction, Howard leans towards his son’s ear.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Do you have any idea,” he whispers, “<em>Any</em> idea, how difficult it was not to laugh?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony giggles, and buries his face into his dad’s shoulder, body shaking in a way that, to those peering from the outside, made it look as though he were crying.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Seriously. Fantastic performance, Tony,” he continues to whisper. “You’d do pretty good as an actor. I think you deserve a reward.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Make it something that looks like you’re trying to shut me up,” Tony suggests, mumbling into Howard’s coat.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Great idea. Let’s go get you some juice, yeah? You’re probably thirsty, I bet.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Orange juice?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t see any spread out, but I’ll ask one of the staff.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They don’t have orange juice, but they <em>do</em> have banana milkshakes, for whatever reason, and although that isn’t what Tony was hoping for, he takes it anyways. A flute of champagne is also offered to Howard, which the man isn’t too happy about, but he still accepts it with a smile. It’s not like he <em>has</em> to drink any of it, right? </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony seems to have the same idea, because after a small sip of his milkshake, he clearly decides that he hates it. The boy doesn’t show it in his expression, but the carefully blank mask is just as much of a tell as scrunching up his face would be. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t like bananas?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I do,” Tony assures, slightly turning his nose away from his glass. “I don’t think I like it mixed with milk though.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard chuckles and pats his son’s head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You don’t have to drink it, then. C’mon, let’s go get Peggy and leave. We’ve been here long enough, and I’m sure we’ve got some orange juice at home.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After abandoning the milkshake and champagne, they find Peggy and the younger agent, Nick, not too far, the two having been watching the Starks from the crowd. The journey home is not necessarily long— not even a full hour away, in fact— but it’s long enough that Tony ends up falling to sleep against his father’s side in the car. It’s not the first time Tony’s fallen asleep beside Howard, but the novelty of it never seems to wear off whenever it happens.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When they roll up into the driveway, rather than waking his son, Howard lifts him up and carries him towards his room, walking past SHIELD agents who aren’t all that great at pretending they’re not completely amused by how adorable a sight the father and son duo make. Or maybe they just think Tony is adorable, which would make sense considering they’re all wrapped around the kid’s finger.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Halfway towards the bedroom, Tony blinks himself awake, grumpily squinting up at his father. Howard gives him a fond smile, about to tell him to go back to sleep, when things suddenly go to shit.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tony’s face twists up in pain, and he starts crying.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Antonio?!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Immediately, Howard kneels down and sets Tony onto the ground, and SHIELD agents begin to crowd in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Papá,” Tony groans, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “Papá, <em>fa male</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Maybe it’s food poisoning,” one of the SHIELD agents suggests, which makes the universe decide to prove them wrong, evidently, because that’s the exact moment Tony turns on his side and starts vomiting blood. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Howard freezes up, breath stuttering to a stop. He sees Maria and Tony’s faces side by side, and it’s like his world is crumbling around him. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if he <em>can</em> do anything, and the panic taking over him is drowning out the voices and chaos.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Out of the way!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Peggy pushes past the SHIELD agents, clapping a hand on Howard’s shoulder, forcefully turning him to look at her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Howard, <em>pick him up</em>. We’ve got to go.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The hospital,” Peggy explains. “Pick him up, we’re getting back in the car and driving to the hospital. <em>Now</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her instructions bulldozes through his panic and has him spurned to action. Not even a minute later, they’re speeding towards the nearest hospital.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, so, apparently I fucked up Howard's age. I thought he was born 1920, but it turns out he was born 1917. I decided I'm... not going to fix it lmao. I guess this is now an AU where Howard is two years younger than Steve, because I'm too lazy to care about the accuracy of something so minuscule. This is literally an AU on Tony's birthday too, so who cares?</p><p>Also, apparently the car crash is supposed to happen in 1991? Even though Howard and Maria supposedly died when Tony was 17 in canon, which would have been 1987? Yeah, looks like we're throwing the canon timeline out the window, because clearly Marvel sucks at math. In other words, I can do what I want! None of you can stop me! Mwahahahaha!</p><p>Man, it really took me a while to finish this chapter. I had it mostly finished for ages, but the ending was just,,, hard to get to, I guess. You know, because I'm poisoning a child. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy?</p><p>(Oh, also— Papá, fa male = Papa, it hurts.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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